Bats and Laughter
by Original-callingbird97
Summary: I had vowed never to return to Gotham until a certain billionaire playboy hired me to plan my older brother's charity event..."You're mine, doll face," the Joker sneered murderously. "It-ah will be easier if you-ah just accept it." With the Crown Prince of chaos reign of terror upon Gotham, Nikki Dent finds herself caught up with the Batman and his arch nemesis. OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first Dark Knight fic, so I hope you like. Review your thoughts! If you guys enjoy it, I will write and update more upcoming chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Dark Knight universe. I do however own my OC.**

**Chapter 1**-

I could feel the soreness of my hands as they gripped the armrest of the seat so tightly that the white of my knuckles showed. Leaning forward, despite the restricted fear in my bosom, I peered out of the small plane window. Flinching at the sight of Gotham so far below, I slumped back against my seat as the aircraft made its descent. Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing.

_You're doing this for Harvey_, my mind chanted repeatedly like a cassette tape.

If there was one thing I hated the most, it was flying. I'm absolutely terrified of heights. Ironic since my career as a party planner requires excessive travel. But for the most part, I tried to avoid flying. The only reason why I grew the balls to even get on this plane was because of my older brother, Harvey Dent. The infamous Bruce Wayne himself had contacted my agency and requested me personally, probably as a favor to the idiot.

Blowing a wavy brunette strand out of my eyes, I pondered about meeting the playboy billionaire. Because of my line of work, meeting important people wasn't an issue for me. But, Bruce Wayne was definitely someone to speculate about. The magazines and tabloids probably exaggerate on his 'wild evenings' or his well-known way of breaking woman's hearts left and right. I wanted to see for myself what kind of character this playboy was.

Then there was the Batman.

I heard rumors. That this infamous vigilante was a caped crusader at night, clearing out the Narrows in Gotham city. Who was he? Curiosity burned in my veins. What kind of past did this man have to masquerade around the city as an overgrown bat? The fact that he had chosen bats as his façade was intriguing. Shaking my head, I put the thoughts of Gotham's dark knight in the back of my mind.

Trying to distract myself from the knotting twist in my abdomen as the aircraft shook from the dropping pressure, I ran over themes and decoration assets through my mind. I had plenty of ideas for the billionaire to look over. I just needed the location to make my plans more thorough. Party planning took excellent observation skills and an open mind to give clients the full experience.

As the plane landed, I tenderly let go of the arm rest and tried to rub the pain out of my hands. Grabbing my computer bag, I eased my way out of the plane and into the crowded airport. _Welcome home_, I thought sarcastically. Pushing through the mass, I managed to find my way to the baggage claim area. Checking the time on my watch, I surmised that I would need to book a place to stay the night before meeting up with Wayne at his enterprises.

Plucking my black suitcase off the conveyor belt, I hefted my bag up my shoulder as I slowly walked towards the exit. Before I could clumsily fish around in my pockets for cash to pay for a taxi, an elderly gentleman stepped in my line of vision.

"Excuse me Miss," he addressed me in what resembled a cockney accent. "Do you happen to be a Ms. Nikki Dent?"

Glancing up, my hazel eyes assessed the man before me. He seemed to be in his mid-sixties. White hair sported his head and he wore a business suit. With a friendly face, he reminded me of a caring grandfather. I was shocked at the politeness in his tone; it was rare to find someone of that nature. Smiling, I clumsily held out a hand after fighting a juggling war with my bags.

"That would be me."

Copying the expression dancing across my features, the elderly man grasped my hand lightly. "I'm Alfred. Master Wayne has requested me to drive you to your designated location at Gotham's finest, the Malbury Inn." My mouth quirked up as his chest puffed up in pride. Chuckling in disbelief, I shook my head. Bruce Wayne-_The _Bruce Wayne- has sent a car for me at the most expensive hotel in Gotham. Have I died and gone to heaven or am I delusional?

"I'm guessing this is really happening? I'm not imagining this, right?"

Alfred laughed easily. Winking at me, he grinned. "I assure you, Miss Dent that this is very real."

"Er…Alfred, thank you for the offer, but I can't afford to stay there." I mumble uselessly. But the old man, bless his soul, waved a hand dismissively.

"Master Wayne offered to provide the payment necessary for your stay."

My jaw threatened to slacken from my shock. I should be used to this from my previous dealings and encounters with celebrities to business men, but Bruce Wayne's reputation was contradicting his actions toward me. If he was such a cold hearted playboy, who held no compassion or interest in others than himself…, why would he go to these measures?

With my thoughts swirling around like a whirlwind, I hide my surprise. Letting the butler wrestle my bags away, I followed him numbly.

A long black limousine was parked right outside the exit. Alfred set my bags down next to the vehicle before producing keys from his trouser pockets and unlocked the door. My lips naturally quirked into a grin as the old man opened the door for me. So chivalry isn't dead, that's nice.

"Thank you, Al," my hazel eyes twinkled. He merely chuckled at the new nickname.

"With pleasure, Miss Dent," Alfred gently closed the door and headed towards the trunk to place my bags securely in. Sighing, I let my head drop backwards onto the head rest. Pulling my phone out of my jeans, my thumbs hovered over the screen as I debated calling Harvey. I haven't spoken to him in months so a small part of me wanted to surprise him. Oh, screw it. Biting my lip, I unlocked the screen and pulled up his contact. Closing my eyes, I clicked the call button and brought the phone to my ear.

With a lurch, I felt the limo pull out from the curb.

"Hello?"

My heart pounded in excitement at my brother's voice. "Hey big bro, I have news."

I heard shuffling on the other end and mumbled voices before Harvey spoke again. "Nikki? It's been a while, kiddo." His tone held amusement and surprise. I could detect the stress that he tried to hide.

Looking out the window, I played with the hem of my shirt. "Bad day at the office?"

"Is it that obvious?" He laughed. "You know me too well, Nik. Just had a meeting with Gordon."

"Oh, I remember him!"

Gordon was one of the few good cops that Gotham's city police department has. He had pulled me out of the way as a car had come barreling towards me when I was seven. Ever since then, I used to visit him at the station after school until I left Gotham. And for some reason he had let me, even though I was some random kid he had saved off the street. He had become a father figure I never had. My favorite thing about him as a kid was his mustache. I haven't seen the man in less than a decade.

Harvey's voice broke me out of my thoughts. "Yeah, well enough about me. So long time no talk. What's up with you?"

I smirked. "I may or may not be in Gotham."

Now I had his full attention.

"What? How? I thought and I quote, you hated Gotham."

"Well…" I drawled, drawing imaginary circles with the tip of my pointer finger onto the leather seat. "Bruce Wayne hired me to plan your party as a favor to you. I didn't know you two were close."

He coughed. "No, no we aren't. I guess the bastard isn't as bad as I thought."

Bastard? Oh that's right, Harvey told me that Wayne had a thing for Rachel Dawes, who was currently my older brother's longtime girlfriend. I haven't met her yet, so Harvey is _not_ allowed to propose until I approve.

Glancing down at my phone, I groaned as I noticed the battery percentage. Holding the phone back to my ear, I sighed.

"My phone's almost dead, Harvey. I will text you when I reach the Malbury Inn. We can meet up later when you're done at work."

"The Malbury Inn? Phew, well alright Nikki. I'll pick you up around 7." Harvey breathed out. "Just text me when you get there."

Nodding, knowing he couldn't see the gesture but doing it anyways, I ended the call. "Gotcha, see you at seven." Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I smiled over at Alfred through the rearview mirror. "Thank you for the ride."

"Nonsense, Miss Dent." He chastised. "It was my pleasure. I will happy to do so in the nearby future." I laughed at that. Feeling the limousine pull to a stop, my eyes grew wide at the large beautiful hotel outside the tinted window. "Well here we are."

"Wow," I mouthed.

Bruce Wayne, you are as of now, good in my books.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for your support so far! I hope I didn't butcher the story with this second chap! I had SOL testing, so it took me some time to update. Please, please review your thoughts. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2- **

"…bank manager found dead with smoke grenade in his mouth," a woman's voice filled the suite as the Gotham News droned on in the background. "Customers were literally holding onto their lives as grenades were placed into their hands. It has been reported that the henchmen, masquerading in clown masks, were killing off their colleagues."

I plopped down onto the large luscious king sized bed with a frown, scrambling into a cross-legged position with a bag of chips strewn across my lap and remote in hand. I was trying to pass the time away by surfing channels on the television, before settling on the news. Alfred had recently left an hour ago after kindly giving me his number if I ever needed a ride. I had tried to protest, but the elderly man just shook his head and insisted. Smiling at the thought of the older man, I chuckled before turning up the volume of the television.

Surveillance footage was pulled on screen showing coverage of a school bus bursting into the bank and killing one of the two henchmen instantly. "From terrified witnesses, the remaining henchman is known as the Joker. The man who had led a series of bank robberies and homicides…" I leaned forward, furrowing my brows as I took in the slightly hunched figure. Unlike his men, his mask held an everlasting frown as he tilted his head, studying his dead 'leader'. Shivers ran down my spine despite the heated suite.

This was one of the reasons why I hated Gotham. Everything was too corrupt. Even some of the police force can't be trusted.

A zoomed in close up of the man's face when he took off his mask, made me drop the remote in shock. Jagged scars pulled at both sides of his mouth in a permanent Glasgow grin covered in red greasepaint. His entire face was painted white with black rings around his eyes, giving them a dangerous depth. To say he looked as if he stepped out of a horror film was an understatement.

Fumbling for the forgotten remote, I clicked the television off.

"Pick up," my phone vibrated with a text message, causing me to jump at the loud ringtone. Rolling my eyes, I huffed as I placed a small hand to my heaving chest. Harvey had thought it would be funny to set his contact ringtone on my phone to Mr. Bean when he had last visited me in Chicago. "Pick up the phone. Come on, pick up the phone. Pick it up. _Pick it up. Pick it up. Pick it up_. Please, pick-" Launching myself towards the offending object, I unlocked the screen and pulled up the message.

**Harvey:** _Are you up for dinner? I thought since you're here, you could meet Rachel_

Letting out a deep breath, I leaned my back against the headboard. My thumbs blurred over the keyboard as I sent him a reply.

**Me:** _Yea, sure why not? I can meet you outside the Inn. What place?_

His reply was immediate.

**Harvey:** _Dress sharp._

Frowning at my phone, I bit my lip as I tried and failed to understand my older brother. Well that wasn't morbid at all. I'm guessing he's taking me somewhere nice. What happened to the good old days of Apple Bee's or Denny's? Sighing, I pushed off the bed and walked out of the room to where my bags laid by the suite door where I had carelessly dropped them. Rummaging through my clothes, I randomly pulled out a white knee-length dress. The torso dipped into a slight V while the skirt flowed out into a dark navy blue. It was not too formal, but not exactly casual either.

That would have to do. Dresses aren't exactly my forte.

After spending at least ten minutes in the suite's giant bathroom, I managed to make myself look somewhat decent. Spending six hours on a cramped plane did not come with 'super model' after effects, sadly enough. Not that I was 'super model' material anyway. I was pretty, in my own opinion, with my narrow face structure and large green eyes. But I definitely wouldn't go as far to describe myself as beautiful.

_You look fine!_ My mind tried to reassure me.

Two hazel eyes seemed to grin back at me as I gazed at the mirror in reluctant approval. I had pinned back my brunette bangs into a slight bump and even applied some eyeliner. I had to hand it to myself; I looked pretty good considering it took only ten minutes. Giving myself a last once over, I grabbed my purse and waltzed out of the suite.

I shyly avoided another leering tenant's eyes as I stepped into the somewhat crowded elevator.

"Pick up. Pick up the phone. Come on, pick up the phone," my eyes went wide as my cell went off. _Harvey! I will kill you!_ Mortified as all eyes turned to me, I blushed a deep shade of red and fumbled through my purse. "Pick it up. _Pick it up. Pick it up. Pick it up_." An elderly lady sneered at me in disgust while a young businessman with curly blond hair and blue eyes coughed awkwardly beside me. "Please, pick up the phone. Thank…you…"

Stupid Mr. Bean.

Pulling out my phone, I ducked my head as brown strands fell from my shoulder and covered my face. I unlocked the screen.

**Harvey:** _Just arrived. Waiting outside, kiddo_

I debated chewing him out for setting his contact ringtone to Mr. Bean, but decided against it. The situation was pretty funny. Though, it would be hilarious if I wasn't on the end of the humiliation.

A sigh of relief practically escaped my lips as the elevator door opened to the hobby. Scrambling out as fast as I could with heels, I contentedly swung the Inn's double doors open and into the night air. Wind whipped at my dress and hair as I craned my neck, searching for my older brother.

And there he was.

Resisting the urge to run towards him and throw my arms around the idiot, I stood my ground as a large Cheshire grin took over my features. Harvey was leaning against the side of a black Mercedes with a smiling brunette in his arms. His hazel eyes shifted from hers to my direction. A grin similar to mine pulled at his lips as he pushed off the car and pulled me into one of his usual bear hugs.

"Hey kiddo," he chuckled against my hair. Playfully pushing him away, I mock glared at him.

"I'm 23 for goodness sakes, Harvey," I shoved at his arm. "Quit with the 'kid' stuff."

"Never," his eye's twinkled. Blinking as the brunette walked up to us, Harvey placed a hand at her waist and gazed down at her. "Nikki, this is Rachel Dawes."

The woman now known as Rachel smiled and held out her hand. "Nice to meet you. Harvey has told me so much about you."

So this was the woman Wayne and my brother fell for. She was certainly stunning. Her curly brown hair was put up into a bun and her red dress clung flatteringly to her slim figure. Feeling slightly intimidated, I placed my hand in hers. "I hope they were all good things," I joked.

Rachel just laughed.

"Are you two ladies ready?" My brother held out both elbows. A snarky reply died from my lips as Rachel took his offering elbow and pecked him on the cheek. Raising a brow, I linking my arm with Harvey's other elbow.

"Okay, you lovebirds, I'm starving here."

Harvey nudged me before opening the door for us. I zoned in and out through conversation during the car ride. Apparently Rachel worked with my brother and actually grew up as a childhood friend of Wayne. She then proceeded to talk about her career as an attorney.

The restaurant Harvey took us to was certainly fancy. Expensive art pieces lined the walls and small indoor golden water fountains stood at the entrance. I admired the ceiling design as a host led us to a table for three.

Glancing towards my brother, I noticed Rachel gazing at me expectantly. I blinked.

"Pardon?"

She smiled. "I asked what brought you to Gotham."

Before I could reply, a deep baritone voice spoke from behind me. "That would be me." Whipping my head around, I came face to face with an intense blue speckled gaze.

"Bruce?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: It took me some time to write this since I had a bit of writers block. I honestly had to keep re-watching the movie to get the characters and the scene right.**

**Also, I had gotten a review determining whether or not Nikki would be a typical damsel in distress or part of the action. Well, I would like to say a bit of both. I want my OC to be relatable and not a Mary Sue. **

**BY THE WAY, I realize that this chapter doesn't entirely has the movie correct but I hope you enjoy the chap. Like I said, your support has been extremely appreciated!**

**Chapter 3- **

"Bruce?"

Rachel gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. It sounded as if she grounded out the words. The blue gaze that had held mine intensely, immediately shifted to hers. Blinking, I briefly wondered if I was hallucinating. My eyes still wide, I reach over and take a long needed sip of wine.

The billionaire had his arm slung over a slim, beautiful blonde. His blue eyes glinted in the light as he gave a crooked grin. "Rachel," he acknowledged her, his demeanor playful. "Fancy that."

"Yeah," Rachel looked up at him as her jaw clenched in irritation. "Fancy _that_." My brow lifted at that. The tension between the two was clear as day, which didn't add up. Hadn't Rachel mentioned earlier that they were childhood friends? Yet their body language hinted at maybe previous romantic relations as they both unconsciously leaned towards the other.

I felt Harvey tense beside me. His shoulders stiff and an overly 'friendly' smile plastered across his features. Apparently shit just got real. Grabbing his hand discreetly under the table, I squeezed it firmly before giving him a pointed look. _Be nice_, I mouthed.

Although as flirtatious Wayne was coming across, the billionaire was after all throwing a charity event for my brother. Not to mention, how this would further my career from working alongside him especially since he requested me. So suck it up, Harvey.

"Rachel," Wayne gestured to the smug blonde beside him, "Natasha. Natasha, Rachel."

"Natasha…" Rachel drawled politely. "Are you the Prima…"

Wayne interrupted, "…the Prima ballerina for the Moscow ballet." The blonde beamed with pride. I resisted the strong urge to roll my eyes. And of course she was Russian… Checking my watch, I chewed my lower lip as I pondered making up an excuse to escape the building tension.

Then those eyes that left many women breathless met mine. My gut clenched in uneasiness as I forced a smile and shook his sturdy hand. "Mr. Wayne," I acknowledged my client.

"Please call me Bruce." He flashed what clearly seemed as a fake grin. "I am glad to have finally met you, though…" he tilted his head, regarding me for a moment, "though I expected someone blonder." He joked, while gesturing towards Harvey. It's not the first time it had surprised people when they were told Harvey and I were siblings. The only feature we had in common was our hazel eyes.

Lifting an eyebrow, I resisted the urge to shrug. "I look more like my father's side of the family, whereas Harvey here got his feminine looks from our mother's." My older brother glared at me as the table erupted with awkward laughter.

Wayne clapped his hands before pulling up another nearby table and two chairs. "Hope it wouldn't be too much of a burden for us to join you."

"Oh," Rachel blinked in protest.

"I'm not sure that's allowed here…" Harvey said weakly. Stirrings of pity bubbled in the pit of my stomach as I took in the scene. Here was a man who had seemingly everything, yet nothing. From Rachel's actions, I'm assuming that any ties between the two were severed. _But why do you care?_ A small voice in my head nagged me. I don't, I told myself. He is just a client that happens to be plastered on every magazine cover that will help boost my career.

"It should be." Another flash of pearly white teeth as he arrogantly sat down, flinging an arm around the back of the Russian ballerina's chair. "I own the place."

This will be a long night…

Sipping my fifth glass of wine, I giggled as the Natasha covered the upper half of Harvey's face with a napkin. "Perhaps Harvey Dent is the legendary caped crusader." Her accent was heavy and dripping with amusement.

Ignoring Rachel's perturbed glance in Wayne's direction, I snorted in an unladylike fashion. Harvey as Batman? Oh, please. The 'White Knight' of Gotham dare I say it, usually had me killing the arachnids and had trouble opening the simplest of lids. As if he could leap from buildings and disarm criminals.

Said older brother seemed to agree.

"If I spent my nights clearing the streets of Gotham," he smiled tightly, "someone would have noticed by now."

Encouraged by the amount of wine I had consummated, I grinned at Harvey. "I second that." Turning to Bruce, I caught his intense blue gaze and slowly held my own napkin to come between our eyes so that only his jaw was exposed. It was masculine and chiseled. My hazel irises swept over it as if to lodge it in memory.

"What about you, Mr. Wayne?" I managed to slur only slightly. Aware of his close proximity, I breathed in his cologne. If I was sober, I would have been appalled at my behavior. Yet unfortunately, I can't seem to hold my liquor. "Are you the infamous Batman?"

Harvey scoffed.

Wayne's hand lowered the napkin gently, his expression surprisingly guarded. An uneasy lopsided grin quirked at his lips as he chuckled, "I'm afraid fighting nights in a rubber suit doesn't appeal to me." His eyes wavered past mine to Rachel as he spoke indifferently.

Disappointment flooded through me for a reason I couldn't understand.

My intoxicated mind pulled abruptly away from the man. Checking my watch, I stood up clumsily. "I'm going to head back to the Inn." If I could manage to call a cab in this state, that is. I could see Harvey starting to protest when Wayne stood up.

"Let me call Alfred-"

My brother stood up as well, not caring for Wayne to interfere. "No we can drive her back. It is pretty late anyways. I have to get to the office early tomorrow." The two men sized the other up before the billionaire stepped back smoothly and nodded.

The drive to the Inn was a blur. I remembered swaying slightly as I got out of the car.

Rachel insisted that she and Harvey walk me to my door at the very least. I agreed and Harvey half carried me to my room. Which for some strange reason, my door happened to stand slightly ajar as if someone forced it open.

"Har?" I gripped his shirt as Rachel pushed the door completely open.

The room was ransacked. Chairs shoved to the side and my clothes carelessly strewn across the carpet. A large crude smiley face was drawn in red paint on the side wall. A knife was embedded into the inside of the door.

Pushing away from my brother, I felt dizzy as Rachel picked up a playing card.

The joker.

It was a message.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N I hope you guys enjoy the chap! Only constructive criticism please! **

Chapter 4-

The Joker was not happy.

His tongue darted out and ran along the inside of his deformed cheek as his dark calculating orbs surveyed the chaos erupting in front of him on the outdated television. His chin rested on the fist of his right hand. An expensive lavender suit adorned his torso over his contrasting green vest as he leaned forward on the desk.

A stack of documents, blueprints, and an assortment of pistols and magazines laid scattered carelessly across the desk forgotten.

"The homicidal criminal known as the Joker strikes again. This time, authorities claim him to have broken in at the Marbury Suite of Nikki Dent at an attempt to send a message to her well known brother, Harvey Dent…" The woman's monotone and fluttering of her fake eyelashes instantly had irritation bubbling in the pits of his abdomen. "…Lieutenant Gordon has informed us that the Batman vigilante has been taking steps to ensure the Dent's safety. The question remains. Is this Batman friend or foe? It is safe to say-"

_Bang. _

"Always."

_Bang. _

"About-_tah._"

_Bang._

"The _Batman._"

Shards of glass shattered around the three gaping bullet holes as the rest of the television lit up in flames. Smoke filled the room and the television let off sparks as if in indignation. Lowering the hand that held the 43 calibre, the Joker's lips lifted into a disgusted snarl. The Bat just has to fly around and poke into things that don't involve him.

How _typical_.

All he wanted was to get the Dent girl quietly and bait her older brother into a corner. What better way to get Gotham's attention then to hold a person of 'good standing'? Since the people of Gotham didn't take his threats seriously, he would just have to make her squeal just to see the city squirm. But, his henchman apparently did a poor job of receiving said girl.

Which left him with less hired employees.

Hence his mood.

His lips smacked together roughly in irritation. "As I uh always say, if you want-_tah_ something done, then uh do it-_tah_ yourself."

Chaos was his specialty. The Dent girl was going to give him just that. She was the key in his plans. He would just have to send another city 'broadcast' to get his message across.

The Joker always gets what he wants. And what he wants is a certain party planner beauty.

"Boss!" a gruff voice called out suddenly as the office door of the warehouse slammed open. _Bang._ The Joker sighed irritably as the henchman glanced down at his chest where a ringlet of crescent blood started to form before slumping face down lifelessly. His henchmen were a means to an end. They were cheap and expendable. Not to mention brainless in the smarts section.

Licking his lips, he tilted his head as the 'deadweight's' companions stared wide eyed in fear before backing away instinctively as the Joker took a predatory step forward.

"I uh thought-_tah_ I told you uh to bring me the girl," his tone was light as if he was chatting to an old friend with the hint of underlying threat. The light 'friendly' tone faded into a low growl. "So uh gents where is she?"

The smallest man of the three stepped forward boldly. "Boss, the Dent bitch went out someplace. So we fucking wrecked the place and left a message-"

The man sputtered as a knife was shoved into his mouth. His brown irises widened in fear pleading mercy against the Joker's pitiless gaze. His hands grasped pathetically against his Boss's hold while his colleagues made no move to help him. The Joker smiled briefly before resting his grease stained cheek against the man's ear, smacking his lips.

"Do you uh want-_tah_ to know how I got these scars?" His eyes narrowed. "No?"

"Please!" The man whimpered. His eyes desperately darted between the knife cutting into the skin of his cheeks and the man holding it. "Give me another chance…I'll do anything!"

"Shh, Shhh, Shhh," the Clown shushed in what seemed like a sympathetic tone. "I uh gave you boys one simple job. You were to uh bring me the doll. And you couldn't even do that-_tah_." His voice lowered drastically as his features held a murderous glare. "I don't-_tah_ give second chances."

Flicking his wrist, the Joker watched unimpressed as the henchman let out a choked scream as blood gurgled from his mouth. Wiping the bloodied blade on the man's sleeve as he twitched uncontrollably on the ground, the Joker clapped his hands as he turned to the remaining two henchmen.

"Now," he smacked his lips. "Someone bring me a new TV."

**So Review! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thank you so, so much for your support! I honestly did not expect to get this much followers and encouragement. I just jotted down an idea that I had about Dark Knight and posted it.**

**So, many of you want action. And, well, more Joker. **

**Those of you who are Batman and Bruce fans, please be patient. I PROMISE to give you guys some smut as I build up their relationship. **

**I want you guys to give me your thoughts on whether or not my OC should be part of it or not. So after reading this chap, please comment your opinion below. **

Chapter 5-

My finger lazily traced along the edge of the chipped Styrofoam Starbucks cup as my eyes shifted from the overhead news to the shop window. Managing to find an opportunity to escape Harvey's constant hovering and concerned glances, I tried to focus on my main reason for being in Gotham. The Charity Event was apparently being held in Wayne's penthouse. His CEO, Mr. Morgan, went over the details with me while the playboy was on a cruise with the Moscow ballet. I debated on being frustrated with the billionaire's lack of care or just not giving a damn.

I chose the latter.

The whole Joker ordeal had me shaken up. Gordon assured me that it possibly was a prank played by a group of delinquents who had a thing against Harvey as the DA. Questions swirled around my mind like a whirlwind threatening to burst out. Who was the Joker? What connection did the homicidal clown have with my brother?

I wasn't stupid. Even a blind man could see there was more than what Gordon and my brother were letting on.

Returning my gaze to the jotted notes in front of me, I jumped slightly as the Mr. Bean ringtone went off. Quickly silencing it, my thumb unlocked the phone to reveal five messages from brother dear.

_**Harvey:**__ Nik! Where the hell r u?_

_**Harvey:**__ Call me now_

_**Harvey:**__ I need u safe kiddo…just please at least call Rachel _

I scrolled down some more, rolling my eyes over his protective tendencies.

_**Harvey:**__ Nikki, I need u at my apartment now! Just got a call from Gordon._

My blood froze at the last message.

_**Harvey:**__ Your DNA was found on the card, Nik. We think it's the real deal_

"Miss?" A soft voice ripped me away from my thoughts, causing me to feel numb as if I was drenched in cold water. My hazel gaze shifted from the phone to the redheaded waitress next to me. Her name tag on the rather scanty uniform read Grace. Her converse clad foot started to tap impatiently. A clipboard was at her hip as she smiled hesitantly down at me. "A man had asked me to give this to you. Uh…Nikki Dent, right?"

Clearing my throat, I nodded, my brows furrowing in confusion. "The one and only." Pulling out a slick white envelope from her apron, the waitress all but shoved it in my grasp before prancing off to serve another table. Looking carefully around the café discreetly, I bit my lower lip as curiosity engulfed me. Ripping the envelope open with my index finger, I shook out its contents.

A single playing card fluttered slowly to the table.

With shaking hands, I turned it over to read the blood red scribbles.

_You might want to duck, Doll face. – J_

"What-"

At that moment, shards of glass from the window exploded as gunshots were fired. Throwing myself to the floor, I covered my head with my hands as chaos erupted in the once peacefully crowded café. A wheezing sound filled my hearing before I recognized it coming from me as my chest heaved rapidly. _Move, you idiot._ A logical part of my brain shouted at my body to move. Half crawling, half running, I ducked behind a booth at the far side of the room.

People had their backs to the walls in a crouching position while others were on the floor with their hands defensively on the back of their heads. Whimpers and shrieks of terror filled the room as five men masquerading in clown masks armed to the teeth barged in the café.

"Hello ladies and gentle-_men_," a throaty nasal voice silenced the café. Peering over the seat to get a better view of my captor for a description, my throat tightened as fear flooded my veins. There in all his purple clad glory, stood the Joker. His dark eye's swept the room with an unsettling amount of calculating intensity and the permanent Glasgow grin rose as his lips smacked roughly together. "Sorry for uh the intrusion but-_tah_ I'm here for one thing." Horror crept through me making my abdomen twist uncomfortably.

_This has to be a dream. _I begged silently.

Lunging for my phone to type a message to Harvey, a goon kicked it from my grasp. His clown mask tilting as he tsked before moving on to collect other cell phones.

"Where uh is Nikki Dent?"

My eyes connected with the redheaded waitress across the room. Grace studied me before turning her head away. I hated the part of me that was glad she didn't speak up.

Some hero.

The Clown sighed irritably when no one answered. Bringing his arm up, he aimed the gun at a random woman and pulled the trigger. A mix between a sob and an anguish yell escaped my lips as blood coated the wall and her body hit the floor.

She had looked to be only nineteen. Most likely in college. Younger than me.

"If no one uh fesses up, I will have my boys here have some target practice," the Joker let out a giggle. People whimpered and cringed as he paced the café. Sirens were heard in the distance, yet the Joker seemed unaffected. His eyebrows raised. "Oh that's cold." He pointed his gun at an elderly man, who was holding what seemed to be his grandson to his chest.

_No!_

"Stop!"

I stood up. As the Joker swiveled to face me, I forced my features into a false bravado determination refusing to give the satisfaction of the mounting terror rising in me. His eyes narrowed as he took in my stiff posture.

"You want me?" I spat, hating how my words trembled. "Then here I am at your service." I hated how useless and powerless I felt.

But I was a party planner, sister to popular Harvey Dent. I was nothing. Definitely not a hero.

He stalked toward me in four long strides, his gait confident and purposeful. His back slightly hunched as he hovered over me. It took everything in me not to cringe as gloved fingers gripped my chin roughly. "You got spunk, doll face. I uh like that-_tah._" Forcing my hazel gaze to meet his defiantly, I felt my world go black as he swung the butt of his gun.

"I like that _a lot_."

**So Review! **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Okay, so I decided to do something a little different. Since you guys have been super supportive, I'm going to do a contest.**

**All you have to do is review. Yeah, I know what you're thinking: seriously? But I promise it will be fun. Just click on the little blue button below and comment you're most embarrassing or wildest moment.**

**The best reviewer will get to have a concrete role in the fic and get to choose their character's place in the fic. So please, please review your funniest stories =)**

**Contest begins!**

Chapter 6-

"_Hush little baby, don't say a word._

_Momma's gonna kill for you the whole damn world._

_And if they don't laugh at our jokes,_

_Momma's gonna stab out their goddamn throats._

_And if they start to run away,_

_Momma's gonna paint the streets with blood._

_And once the blood starts to wash off,_

_Momma's gonna blow some more heads off._

_And if the world still doesn't laugh,_

_Momma's gonna go and poison them._

_And once the poison does it's job,_

_Momma's gonna show you you're legacy._

_And if the world still tries to fight,_

_Momma's gonna burn their houses down._

_And if you grow up with his smile,_

_Momma's gonna be so…proud of you….."_

_-Harley Quinn (Arkham Asylum)_

XXX

Darkness swam through my vision as I felt the fog of unconsciousness leave me. My head felt like a heavy weight as it hung low, tucked into my chest. A mix between a gurgle and a groan left my lips at the searing pain at the back of my skull. It felt as if someone took a jackhammer to it, repeatedly. Lifting my head, my retinas burned as I blinked against the blinding light.

I'm still in bed. I thought desperately. Harvey is in the kitchen with the stupid pink apron I had bought him last Christmas that read '_Kiss the Cook_'. He would be hovering over the stove for an hour making scrambled eggs and bacon. That blinding light had to be sunlight from Harvey's apartment window.

"Wakey, wakey sunshine," a female voice that held a strong Brooklyn accent cackled. "You're not supposed tah be up and about yet. Mistah J will want tah play with ya soon. So ya might want tah save your strength for what's coming to ya."

That was most definitely not Harvey.

My hazel irises shot open before my mind could process my surroundings. I was in a dark room with a flickering overhead light. My body was at an awkward angle. My arms were roughly bound behind the back of the mahogany chair I was secured in. I winced at the slightest movements of my wrists.

"Where the hell am I?" The words that left my lips were unrecognizable. My voice was hoarse and my mouth felt unnaturally dry. My chair scraped loudly against the floor as I attempted to wiggle out of the restraints.

A high pitched giggle stopped my movements. "No use tryin' that, sugar. He tied ya up nice and good so ya won't be naughty and escape."

"Who are you?" I tried to growl, but it only ended up as a croak.

A figure emerged from the shadows. My eyebrows shot up in shock.

It was a woman in a clown costume.

Her body adorned a jester like outfit matching the Joker's clown masquerade theme. Blue eyes seemed to grin manically at me from the black ring around her lids that reminded me of a raccoon. Her lips were painted a bright cherry red that lifted up in a smirk. Shifting in my chair to get a closer look, I could make out strands of blonde peeking from under her jester cap.

Her leather knee high heeled boots clicked against the tiled floor as she swayed her hips. Stopping a few feet away, I cringed as she tugged on a brunette strand. She giggled insanely at my reaction and flicked the strand away.

"The name's Harley Quinn," she placed her hands defiantly on her hips and tilted her head. _Harley Quinn. _Like the_ harlequin_. The name struck a chord in my brain. _Harley Quinn_. Where have I heard that name before? Irritation filled me as I tried and failed to place a memory on her identity. The jester clad woman continued, "Mistah J didn't want me tah talk to ya, but I just had to see his new pet. Especially since he has been ignoring little ol' me because of ya."

Catching on to the fond way she spoke of this 'Mistah J' whom I could assume was the one and only Joker, my eyes narrowed. Maybe if I turned this against her, I could get a way out. She clearly didn't like me judging by the seething glare.

"My brother is looking for me and he _will_ find me," I hated the tremble of doubt in my voice. Harley seemed to hear it since her ruby lips lifted in a sneer.

"Oh, Mistah J will take of that and the Bat." She giggled sweetly as if recalling a nice memory. "He plans tah make ya watch the fireworks."

Fireworks? She couldn't be talking about a...

Clearing my throat, I lifted my chin in anger. She was lying. She had to be. "So let me guess, you're the clown's girlfriend? Or are you just one of his _pets_." Harley's blue eye's narrowed and darkened with irritation.

"Curiosity killed the cat," she hissed. "Maybe Mistah J won't mind if I have a bit of my own little fun with ya." Her fist met the side of my face and I felt the world spin. Before my vision darkened, I heard insane giggles.

XXX

"Wake up, doll face," a nasal voice cackled. A gloved hand lightly slapped my cheek, stinging from previous abuse inflicted on it. "We uh got some work to do."

"Ugh," was the only word I could manage as I stared straight into the black eyes of the Joker. His grotesque lips stretched into a supposed grin once I took in my surroundings. I was still in the dark room with my arms bound behind the chair. Only now a chair in which the Joker had happily took up residence in sat across from me. His right hand held a small beaten up video camera.

His tongue swiped along the inside of his scars before smacking his lips loudly. "Alright, smile for the camera, sweet cheeks. Your uh gonna be a star-_ah_."

**Batman will be in the next chapter! Don't forget about the contest, just scroll up to the top A/N note for intructions. Review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Okay, so it took me awhile to get this updated because I just started work and I was pretty busy. But I have the nominations for the contest as promised with their characters.

**Best reviewer for embarrassing moment:**

RealHuntress18- (chosen character is Thorne Spencer)

**Best reviewer for wildest moment:**

Fanwriter1245- (chosen character is Faith)

**Chapter 7-**

The soles of the military combat boots of the new recruited detective slapped softly against the pavement as Thorne Spencer peered around the corner of the wall she was currently leaning on. Sagging her head back against the hard panel, she quickly switched the safety off her firearm and swiftly placed a magazine in, cocking the pistol. Spotting a pop up target appearing just ten feet ahead, her dark haired bob swayed as Thorne rolled towards a nearby crate, firing her Beretta M9. Turning, she quickly emptied her magazine into the three targets that automatically popped up around her.

Gotham's Police Department had just recently put in a gym and target room for the force to train and develop skill with the support from the Mayor. Thorne just couldn't get enough of it. Whenever she wasn't on a case, she usually stressed her body to train for reasons unbeknownst to her co-workers and partner. Except, Lieutenant James Gordon and current Commissioner.

They both knew her past ties to the mob. No matter the change of last name, how many cases she worked hard on, or the vast amount coffee trips, she could practically sense the waves of distrust that emitted from the Commissioner and other members. She was a fool to think she could ever be a valued detective in their eyes.

She was still part of the gang in their eyes. A 'spy' with false lips and a pretty crocodile smile in the police force.

Gordon, however, seemed more understanding and compassionate. His eyes were kind and fatherly as he forced her to get the day off to get rest despite her protests.

Her older brother, Pete Malark, had been murdered in cold blood in front of her eyes a couple years back because of a gambling debt their father owed to the mob boss, Maroni. Their father was already causing trouble in the midst of the gang by attempting to murder the mob leader to gain higher status and respect. His sources ratted him out. So Maroni sent his goons to give him a message after he shot Pete down to get a point across.

In front of her.

It was the first time she had ever witnessed death. Death, really, was a funny thing. You could never know when it will happen, but when it hits you, it shakes you up making you feel empty deep inside.

Her brother, Pete, had tried so hard to keep her from being a pawn in the mob. He taught her self-defense lessons and made her remember not to trust anyone, to watch her back.

Thorne remembered the soundless scream that escaped her lips that night.

*Flashback*

_Maroni leaned down into a crouch in the alleyway beside the apartment complexes next to the sobbing Malark girl as she shook her brother's lifeless form. Tears ran down the side her cheeks as she wept. Pete was all she had. He was her rock, he helped support and raised her while their father went out to clubs burying the family in deeper dept. Thorne wanted nothing more than to kill the man who stood watching the scene with disinterest._

_As if the whole ordeal was just a waste of his time._

_Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she froze. Turning to look up at her brother's murderer, she glared as rain splashed against her already drenched form. Her fists clenched._

"_Boys," the mob leader snapped his fingers as his men stepped forward. "Take the body and mutilate it. Then leave what's left as a surprise for Ben Malark." Looking at her, he narrowed his eyes. "Leave the kid to me."_

"_No!" She heard herself scream. Grabbing the knife from Pete's belt, Thorne held it shakily as she held it to the man's neck. "I will bury him!"_

_The men behind Maroni started to pull out their own weapons to eliminate the threat against their leader, but the mob boss held up a hand stopping them. Thorne shook with rage and fear as Maroni gazed at her evenly, even as the blade nicked his neck._

"_You don't have the guts, girl." He spat at her. The pouring rain slowed to a drizzle. Thorne's eye's widen as she finds herself incapable of actually going through with her threat. Her fingers tighten on the handle as she closed her eyes. "There's one thing you gotta learn kid. Not to form attachments or trust nobody, because then you will end up with a knife in your back." Shoving Thorne roughly to the ground like a rag doll, Maroni stood up with his hands in his pockets._

_His men held her back as she helplessly watched her older brother get dragged away._

_*End of Flashback*_

No one messed with Salvatore Maroni.

Except the Batman. The vigilante had balls, that's for sure. Thorne secretly approved the Bat's presence in the Narrows because it gave her hope that the mob would diminish and she could finally see her brother's murderer behind iron bars.

"Spencer!"

The lights in the training room turned on suddenly, causing Thorne to find herself aiming her now empty Beretta on her partner, Detective Ethan Woods. Carefully guarding her expression to hide her surprise, Thorne lowered the firearm and hooked it to the holster in her belt as Woods playfully lifted his hands in mock surrender.

"The Commissioner is havin' a meetin' with the board," Ethan gave her a head nod. "He wants everyone to come sit in."

At this, Thorne scoffed as she brushed imaginary lint of her petite frame. "What happened this time? Someone take a jug of his precious red wine? Or did he find some muddy footprints on his vintage rug?" It was common knowledge that she and the Commissioner never saw eye to eye.

Woods chuckled low and shook his head. Ruffling in his trousers, he pulled the keys to the cruiser they shared and tossed it to a bemused Thorne. "Might be your big break actually. It has somethin' to do with that Nikki Dent case and the Joker." With that said, Ethan gave the younger Detective a wink before stalking out of the training room.

With wide eyes, Thorne ran out the door to get the Commissioner's mocha latte in hopes to get on the case. To take on the Joker would bring her respect and finally clear her family name.

X

"Master Wayne," Alfred brought out a china set platter filled with bacon, hash brown, scrambled eggs, and black coffee and placed it carefully on the side table next to Bruce's king-sized bed. "Here's your breakfast, sir."

The billionaire gave a halfhearted smile at his butler and old time friend, as he yawned tiredly and stretched. Standing up after curling his toes against the soft carpet three times out of habit, Bruce fell into a push up position. Heaving through the exercise as his muscles strained, the billionaire chuckled as he heard the disapproving scoff from Alfred. He had a feeling that his butler caught sight of the dark molted bruises that decorated his back.

The sneak in he had performed to retrieve the cheap Chinese businessman while in China had harsh repercussions on his body.

"Yes, Alfred?"

"Master Wayne," the butler chastised sharply. "You need your rest, sir. Those wounds won't heal if you're constantly putting your person in this unhealthy state."

Quickly finishing up the last few minutes of his daily morning push up routine, Bruce flashed Alfred an amused half smile. Pulling himself up, he rolled his sore shoulders back before pulling an already laid out white polo shirt. "No can do, Alf. You know that I have two roles to play as long as Gotham still needs the Batman."

Batman gave him a sense of justice. Bruce refused to let that go. The Bat masquerade made him feel as if he was finding a form of repentance for his past mistakes.

Alfred gave him a weary look but said nothing. Pulling out the Gotham Times newspaper that was tucked in his side, he handed it to a frowning Bruce.

"Break in at the Malbury Inn?" The article read it was a fortnight ago. Apparently it was speculated to be an attack led by the Gotham's newest visitor, the Joker. But, what did the clown want with the Dent sister? Bruce pondered before flinging the newspaper on the plush bed. "Why was I not informed about this?"

Bruce Wayne didn't know what to think of Nikki Dent

Alfred started making the bed. "Because, Master Wayne, there was already a lot on your mind." The elderly man huffed indignantly. "I talked with Miss Dent myself, and didn't find her situation at the time important since the police assumed it was a mindless prank and her brother took her in."

Bruce was about to reply when his bedroom T.V. turned on suddenly with the Joker's Glasgow grin plastered across the screen. The billionaire crossed his arms as he took in the live feed. Alfred moved closer, the bed forgotten, as a look of horror dawned on his wrinkled features.

"People of Gotham," the Joker smacked his lips haughtily as the camera he was holding shook. "I have a very uh special guest-tah with me today." The clown cackled slightly as his tone took a darker note. "Say hello, doll face." The focus of the camera turned from the monstrosity of the Joker's face to a girl in her early twenties tied up in a chair with her head hanging low. Her hair was matted and clung in several clumps. Her shirt was stained with blood.

Only a 'fuck you' was given in response.

"Now!" The Joker boomed. His voice deep with insane rage. The girl lifted her head up slowly, her face sporting dark bruises and cuts. Her hazel eyes burned with defiance as they glared past the camera.

It was Nikki Dent.

"You just fucked up my childhood. Now I can't look at clowns the same way again," the brunette snapped saucily. Her head snapped to the side as the Joker backhanded her.

"Don't disappoint me," His nasal voice darkened. "All eyes are on you, so why don't you uh give a little shout out to your big bro." Nikki refused to say anything, keeping her face to the side. The camera focused back on the Joker's permanent smiling features, his yellow teeth set in a snarl. "Well, folks, we are uh having some difficulties with the crowd-ah."

He pulled the camera closer, showing only his mouth.

"Batman," he licked his lips. "I'm in the uh mood for a game-ah." The camera pulled back showing Nikki Dent slumped in the chair behind him. "Reveal yourself, rip off that mask and I will let this girl here uh go. If not-"

The clown smiled manically. "I will personally give you first seat in the uh fireworks." With that said, the T.V. shut off.

**Review! Haha, reviews are love!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Updated! Finally! Hope you enjoy the chap, pls review your thoughts.**

**Chapter 8-**

My head rested on the back of the mahogany wooden chair as my bloody wrists scraped painfully against their light bindings. For the last two hours, I had started sawing the rope strands against the chair edge. The effort was painful considering I had to strain my arm muscles to complete the task but I managed to cut through part of it. The dim overhead light flickered as loud smacking footsteps echoed outside the door as they approached the room. Closing my eyes, I hoped it wasn't the Joker.

All that was running through my mind, was like a mantra. '_I will get out of here. I will not be a damsel in distress_.'

I'm pretty sure most girls in my position would be begging for the masked vigilante to swoop in and save the day. Not me. I just wanted to get out of this hell hole instead of sitting around for the Batman.

The footage the Joker had me participate in about two days ago, left me exhausted and empty. Being alone in this stupid little room was eating at my sanity. I even counted the tiles on the ceiling. All three hundred of them. Three hundred freakin' tiles.

Though I did manage to get some idea of what was happening. There were two men stationed at my room in case I tried to get out or…something or someone tried to get in. They started talking about some new heist the "_Mister J"_ was going to pull. I couldn't hear everything they were saying, but I heard Harvey's name and something about a bomb.

I had to get out and warn Gordon.

The door swung open just as I hung my head low. Two large brown men loafers filled my vision as they stopped a foot away. "So, uh little Niiiikkkiii," I instinctively cringed as he drawled my name out, before the Joker roughly placed his hand in my hair, yanking my head back. My jaw dropped. His face was wiped clean of his 'war paint'. His once stringy hair that tinted green was slightly wavy and blonde. He looked almost handsome despite the jagged scars.

He threw back his head and laughed insanely once he saw my reaction. Bare fingers uncovered by purple gloves made me gasp as he gripped my chin as his face neared mine. His breath fanned my face as his dark eyes never left my hazel ones.

"Poor little Niki," his tongue darted out to lick his lips. In a daze, my eyes followed the movement. "Lost without her big ol' bro. Always having to live behind his uh shadow must have been _rough_-ah. You remind me of me ya know."

The spell I was in momentarily broke. Raising a brow, I reeled back. "Really? I'm pretty sure popping little kid's balloons, snatching candy from babies, or stealing money from mob leaders was not in my agenda." The words left my lips before I could stop them. The Joker's face remained expressionless throughout my rant. The grin gone. Nervousness coiled in belly. _Since I'm already done for, I might as well start digging_. "But you know, if you let me go, I can check if that's on my to-do list."

In seconds, his left hand buried itself in my unruly matted chestnut strands as the other hand flicked out a pocket knife. The blade lightly skimmed my cheeks before resting on my lips. The blade nicked the skin, causing a drop of scarlet to color my lips. "You think you're so smart-_tah_. The boo-tea-ful party planner with the wild-_ah_ ideas. Now, tell me Princess." His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered the last part. "Want to know how I got these scars?"

My eyes flickered from his to the Glasgow smile that was permanently etched on his skin. I could sense I was teetering on a sensitive line at this particular topic. "Not particularly, no. Doesn't look like a story I would fancy. But I will tell you how I got mine, if you tell me how you got yours."

Surprise flickered across his features before he let out a high pitched giggle. Gripping my face tighter, his words deepened into a growl. "My father was a drinker-"

"They always are," I cut in before he gave me a glare that clearly gave me the message of 'shut the hell up'.

"My father was a drinker," he stopped to let the words hang. His dark eyes challenged me to interrupt a second time, before he continued. "You see, lil Niks, anything would set him off. Reminds me of your father. How uh every night Harvey boy would take the beatings while you were forced to hide in your room-_ah_." His dark eyes seemed to intensify, boring into mine. It was uncomfortable. His stare made me feel as if my thoughts, feelings, and soul was exposed to that calculating gaze.

Memories managed to uproot from the deepest pits of my mind and played like a movie in front of my eyes. I had always hated how fast the hours went as a kid, school was a safe haven for me since it had kept me from home. Father would stagger in the kitchen drunk, backhanding Harvey for not already having dinner finished.

That's why I left Gotham. It was full of memories I wanted to forget.

"How did you know?" I asked numbly, blinking away tears. A lump formed in my throat and I hated him for it.

The Joker pulled away from me to reach inside his green vest. Anger flooded me as my diary dangled from his fingertips. His smile broadened. "I have been keeping tabs on you, because you see, we are alike. Alone facing the world that turned its back on us when we needed it most-_tah_."

"I am nothing like you!" I snapped. "What's the point in all this MJ? Manipulate me all you want asshole, but I will still fight."

The Joker hummed. "Fiesty," he smirked wolfishly. "MJ? I like it."

I shrugged. "Rather not call you _Mistah J_," my imitation of Harley Quinn's accent received a frown. "So what do you want? I'm pretty sure you didn't come here to be my chatting buddy-" His lips roughly met mine, causing me to widen my eyes. "Get off me" probably sounded more along the lines of "Mhget froff ree."

A hand yanked me closer as his mouth moved harshly against my own. I clamped my lips shut as his tongue demanded access. Feeling his hand grip my bum, I gasped. Taking that to his advantage, his tongue slid in my mouth. Biting down as hard as I could, the metallic taste of blood seeped into my mouth as the Joker ripped himself away. He was breathing heavily from the kiss, his eyes impossibly darker as he wiped his knuckle across his mouth.

"You're mine, doll face," the Joker sneered murderously. "It-_tah_ will be easier if you uh just accept it."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **I re-edited this chapter since it just didn't flow right. Hope you guys enjoy it!

And those of you who do not like Thorne Spencer. Too bad. If you flip back a few chapters, I did a contest for the most embarrassing story. Whoever won gets their character in the fic. I'm sorry if it seems random but I'm not going to take Thorne out. It would be unfair to the winner. If you don't like then just don't read.

Okay, so I need a vote for my OC slash:

A. Bruce Wayne/Batman

B. Joker

Please review your vote!

**Chapter 9**

Thorne Spencer flipped through the files that was stacked in piles on her desk. She was searching for anything on the Joker. No name, no origin, just a seemingly "John Doe" with no previous gang correlation. It was as if he appeared out of thin air blazing guns and TNT.

Lieutenant Gordon had asked her to pull up information on the Clown. So far, no dice. Thorne glanced at her computer which ran security footage of the banks and jewelry stores the Joker had raided with his men. She spoke to the managers in an attempt to piece the puzzle together. None of the robberies were related; he was making himself known to the public. Because they were in different locations, she couldn't narrow down anything. Gordon suggested that Ethan and her ask around the Narrows. Spencer knew that would only turn up to be a dead end.

Gotham City was divided in three parts, all led by mob leaders who ran the Narrows in collaboration. Sal Maroni and Carmine Falcone were the two most feared until the Joker came along and messed up the game, creating chaos and turning men against their leaders. The psychopathic clown brought the City to its knees and did it single-handedly. Which means the two mob leaders will do anything in their power to bring him down. Because of her past ties to Maroni, Commissioner Leob wanted Thorne to go undercover and get close to the Joker to find out his end game. He wanted to know their locations and plans so he could get a team and take them out. She could also attempt to get the DA's sister out. Two birds, one stone. A dangerous mission that Thorne was both dreading and anticipating. The Joker was unpredictable. Although she had a chance to get in or out, it was still a risk.

A risk she was willing to take.

Tapping her chin with her pen thoughtfully as she glared at the map with pins on the several locations gang members were spotted, Thorne's head shot up as a hand slapped down on her desk. Her partner, Detective Woods, stood there with a shit eating grin. "Spence, get your crap together. The Commissioner just got a vox from the DA. Dent is pulling a press conference. Apparently the Bat is giving himself up. We're pulling an APB."

Jaw slackened and eyes wide, Thorne gave Woods a nod before grabbing her badge and jacket. Thoughts raced wildly in her head. Why was the Batman turning himself in? The broadcast the Joker sent to all CNN and news channels must have hit a nerve. Which means the Bat is close to the Dent girl.

* * *

The punch to my abdomen left me breathless as rage flooded the dark eyes of the Joker. The redheaded henchman that stood behind him sported a sadistic smirk as the frayed ropes that I had broke out of was displayed in his hands. If the Joker wasn't currently intent on beating the absolute shit out of me, I would have given him another black eye to match the dark purple surrounding his left eye that was crusted shut with blood where my fist met repeatedly. Fingers gripped my chin and flung my face towards a malicious maniacal grin as the Clown stared down at me.

"Oh no, no, no," he growled. "You see little Niks, you caused quite-ah bit of, uh, problems. You're not allowed to leave. I, uh, _need_ you."

My chest heaved with the effort to breathe as I forced my chin up stubbornly. The tightening grip on my chin and the two men holding my arms were the only thing keeping me on my feet. "Then you need better security, I took on three of your men." Silently thanking my friend, Faith, for encouraging me to take self defense classes, I refused to look away as the Joker leaned his face closer. His features became impassive which brought chills down my spine.

"Nik-_ki_ Dent, you, uh, wound me," he sang lightly in that nasally tone. "Looks like the kitten has claws after all, isn't that right boys!" He straightened his back and cackled. His grip was bruising as he whipped my face towards the television. "I have something you might want-_tah_ to see." A goon picked up the remote and played the recording.

Harvey stood at the podium. His eyes were noticeably bloodshot and dark shadows suggested his lack of sleep. Despite his disheveled appearance, his posture was stiff as he sported a serious tight lipped smile. Reporters had filed in and were already firing questions at Gotham's White Knight. Rachel stood next to Bruce Wayne as Harvey raised a hand to silence the crowd.

The hand gripping my chin tightened as I was forced to watch my older brother clear his throat. "I am the Batman."The reporters were in uproar as two policemen clamped his arms behind his back in handcuffs.

I could feel the Joker's eyes on me as I took it in. The shock of Harvey's proclamation was like ice cold water being dumped over me. A mixture of anger, fear, and hurt bubbled within me as tears ran down my cheeks unchecked. I didn't know my older brother at all.

"It's a lie," I heard myself saying. "He's not the Batman. He just wants you to stop terrorizing Gotham." I wanted to believe the words, but the Joker's maniacal grin widened.

"Is that so? Put her in my room," he barked at the men. "We got-_tah_ a bat to capture!"

His cackling laughter followed me as the men dragged me out of the room. My voice was hoarse from screaming obscurities at the clown. My world became dark when the red headed goon sneered at me and punched me across the face.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Thank you, thank you so much for the reviews! They are extremely encouraging. So far it seems as if everyone wants Bruce action. Which will come I promise in the next chapter! I'm sorry for the short chapter. I promise to make it up to you all!

Please keep the reviews coming! I hope you all enjoy reading the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have any ideas or constructive criticism, don't hesitate to tell me!

**Chapter 10**

Anger surged through my being as my senses came groggily to me as I was thrown unceremoniously into a spacious room. Falling with a groan to the floor, barely able to stop my head from connecting with the rotting wood floorboards, I heard the door slam with the lock clicking in place. Placing a hand to my throbbing cheek, I pulled it away to find trickles of crimson staining the pale pink flesh.

"Asshole!" My throat burned as I yelled hoarsely. Pulling myself up in a sitting position, I allowed my hazel irises to sweep my new environment. A large makeshift bed with green and purple sheets taunted me from its place in the center of the room. _Take her to my room_, the Joker's cackle resonated seemingly around me as I shuddered in disgust. My lips burned from the searing kiss when he had pulled my hair back so my face was tilted back to give him access. _Wasn't he involved with Harley?_ I decided I didn't care. The urge to get to my brother before the psychotic clown was strong. Although hurt from my brother's secret, I was determined to save him. But first, I had to save myself. The two windows in the room were barricaded from the outside with black metal poles. Looking outside, I noted that the room I was in was at least three stories high, without a fire escape.

The door made an indignant groan as my foot slammed into it. Pain immediately seized the autonomy. Dropping to my knees, I leaned my forehead against the metal and allowed myself to cry. Harvey had given himself up to save me and the Joker was going to kill us both anyway. How could I, a tiny brunette with no fighting experience except a few classes in Karate and gymnastics, going to face a murderous clown with a large ring of mobsters at his back? The truth was that I was nobody. The Batman, my brother, was now in custody and I was stuck in this room. My fist hit the door as I rained punches to the metal thing and screamed. The flat of my palm rested on the metal surface as more tears rolled down my cheeks.

_You're going to give up now?_ My inner libido chided. _Remember how many times Harvey took the punches for you when Dad was alive and made sure you had a better childhood? You're going to allow him to sacrifice himself and just give up because 'it's hard'?_

Wiping the salty tears with the back of my hand, I shakily stood up. For Harvey, I was going to get out of this shithole. "There has to be a way out," I ran a hand through my frizzy brown hair in distress. "Okay, deep breaths, Nikki. You can't escape if you're a total mess of nerves." _Breaths_… My eyebrows raised. _Air_. _The ventilation system_! Slowly my gaze followed the wall to the vent in the ceiling.

Pulling an old oak wood desk from its place from the wall, I dragged it right under the air vent. Eyeing the screws with unmasked distaste, I huffed. _Alright, so no screwdriver anywhere in sight. I need to make something to act as a substitute_. Hearing the creak of a floorboard as I stepped back caused a wide grin to envelope my features.

* * *

Sed Hanover was in no mood to be babysitting. Especially no loudmouthed Dent bitch who decided to use his face as a personal punching bag. _It was an off day_, he shrugged as if to let the shame of having a girl get the best of him off his shoulders. As his black combat boots paced the hall outside the room, he heard the youngest Dent scream and kick the door. A cruel smile curled at his lips at the following sobs.

'_What you deserve_.' The sound of her crying lifted his spirits and made his day. To hear her giving up. Humming, he returned to pacing, periodically taking large gulps from his flask. The boss would be furious as all hell to see him drinking on the job, but what was one girl going to do up against him.

Then things got quiet, too quiet. Furrowing his fiery red brows in annoyance, the mobster slammed his fist on the door. "Hey!" He grunted. "Ya better not be doin' nothing suspicious!" Pangs of fear rolled onto him in waves at the answering silence. If the Dent bitch hurt herself or escaped, the boss will have his head. Shivering at the thought of the Joker's murderous glare on him, Sed quickly unlocked the door with his gun hefted against his shoulder before kicking the door open.

The desk was pulled under the swinging open vent in the ceiling. Hanover paled. "Fuck!" Turning to alert the others, he met the angry features of Nikki Dent as she moved from her spot from beside the door. A wooden board ripped off from the floor was in her raised hands as she brought it down on his head. With a sickening crack, Sed felt his vision blur as he slumped face first to the ground.

"Fuck you," was the last thing he heard before blackness overtook him.

* * *

Now clad in the redhead's gear, Nikki pulled his cap further down on her head to hide her features. Her hand clenched the gun in her grip, turning her knuckles white from the tightness of it. Her heart thudded against her chest rapidly as she forced her gait into a slow, calm walk as she passed some men who sneered or nodded in acknowledgement of her presence. _So far, so good_. She thought. The constant fear of being discovered remained as she strode down the warehouse stairs. Bumping into a chest, she found herself stuck in a bald man's glare.

"Goin' somewhere?" His narrowed beady gaze was hard as he stared Nikki down. Forcing herself not to cringe to give herself away, she allowed a smirk to grace her features in a false sense of cockiness.

"Boss wants me to get to the artillery and get some weapons ready." Forcing her voice to deepen hopefully in a believably boyish tone, Nikki lifted her chin in defiance. "Why you wanna know?" The lame excuse was weak and unbelievable. She knew it. He knew it.

The bald man chuckled, calling attention to a few other men. This was bad. Nikki felt her hazel irises flicker nervously to them before gripping her gun tighter. The goon stepped closer, hovering over her. "Funny thing is, the boss already left. So why would he need weapons?" Feeling waves of suspicion and violence coming off the man in front of her and noticing how a small group now surrounded the two, Nikki knew she had to act fast. Pulling back her knee, the bald goon covered his crotch with both hands with his features twisted in fury and pain. Immediately guns were cocked and aimed at her as she held her own to Baldy's head.

"Don't shoot or he's dead," the dead flattened tone of her voice surprised her as Nikki forced herself not to tremble. "Doesn't the boss want me alive anyway?" Growling in her shield's ear as he struggled weakly in her grip, she muttered "Now walk or I'll kill you here and now. Don't think I won't."

Scuffling backwards, the two awkwardly made it out the door. Hearing the door click shut behind them, Nikki searched Baldy's pockets while keeping the gun connected to his head. Obscurities left his lips but they fell on deaf ears. Nikki was trying desperately to control the trembling of her hands. One slip up, Baldy here could overtake her. Finding a set of keys, she pushed herself away and pointed the gun at Baldy's leg. The following gunshot and scream of agony gave Nikki her cue to leave. As the combat boots too large for her feet slapped against the ground, Nikki ran while clicking the car fob rapidly with her thumb. The yells of men behind her alerted her limited time.

"Shit!" Nikki ducked into an alley way and pressed her back against the brick wall. "Why is this easier in the movies?" Hyped on adrenaline, after hearing the answering beep of a car from the key fob, she dashed toward the sound.

* * *

"You ain't going anywhere, sugar," a feminine growl and the sound of a gun cocking left me frozen. Dropping my hand from the car door handle, I turned slowly to find the jester clad blonde aiming a rifle in my direction.

"Harley Quinn."

Keeping the gun aimed at my head, she smirked at me while sashaying her hips as her heeled boots clicked while she came closer. "Now drop it. Don't lemme tell ya twice or I'll blow that whore face right off of ya!" Cautiously, I tossed the gun to the asphalt. I could feel my world crumbling at the thought that I had failed Harvey. Taking in my remorseful glazed features and misreading it, Harley squinted and growled. "I know ya kissed my pudding! That's right, you whore! HE LOVES ME! HE'S MINE!" The pigtailed blonde screamed. My eyes widened as fear swept through my being.

"You're right," I said carefully understanding that at any moment the blonde would snap and shoot me on the spot. "What if I could help you earn brownie points with MJ?"

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